


Feel My Pain

by JessJesstheBest



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Beta'd by people I don't deserve, M/M, Profound Bond Gift Exchange, Soulmates, Soulmates identified through pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 08:43:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17138621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessJesstheBest/pseuds/JessJesstheBest
Summary: Mary Winchester hadn’t been exactly surprised when her four year old came toddling up to her in tears, confused why his knee hurt when he hadn’t even fallen over.Or a universe where you feel your soulmate's pain.





	Feel My Pain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shannon_Kind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shannon_Kind/gifts).



> This is my PBExchange Winter Wonderland gift for [Shannon-Kind!](archiveofourown.org/users/Shannon_kind)  
> We share a lot of the same favorite tropes so this was a genuine pleasure to write. So thank you, Shannon!

Researchers were never sure when the phantom pains began – if it was straight from birth or if the soul bond only kicked in once both soulmates had developed speech. It’s been said that pain is the opposite of language, but soulbond researchers were pretty sure there was a link there.

In any case, Mary Winchester hadn’t been exactly surprised when her four year old came toddling up to her in tears, confused why his knee hurt when he hadn’t even fallen over.

She picked him up and put him on her own knee, whispering to him so as not to wake the infant sleeping in the bassinet.

“Dean, sweetie, where does it hurt?”

Dean sniffed, also trying to be quiet, and pointed to his knee.

“Does it feel like that time you fell off your big wheel?”

Dean nodded, eyes wide. “Yeah! But less scrapey. More like–’ he mashed his hands together to replicate an impact.

Mary nodded. “So it feels like maybe you jumped off of something really high you weren’t supposed to…?”

Dean nodded but he started crying again. “But I wasn’t, Mommy! I wasn’t climbing on anything I promise.”

Mary smoothed a hand over his hair, shushing him. “I know, baby, I know. But there’s another kid out there just like you. This kid is your soulmate. And I think  _ they _ might have climbed something high and got hurt.”

Dean’s eyes widened again, tears forgotten. “And I felt it? Like in  _ Sleeping Beauty _ ?”

Mary nodded, smiling. “Yes, like when Aurora pricked her finger in  _ Sleeping Beauty _ . You’re Prince Phillip!”

Dean nodded, face getting very serious. “So I have to go save her.”

Mary laughed. “No, honey, no! It’s just a scrape, your soulmate will be fine. You’ll meet them eventually.” She lifted him up and turned him around on her knee so she could look directly into his sweet little face. “For now, this just means you should be extra careful not to hurt yourself. Don’t climb on things you shouldn’t, don’t play with Daddy’s tools, don’t touch things in the kitchen when Mommy’s cooking. Because if you hurt yourself, your soulmate will feel hurt, too.”

Dean nodded emphatically, holding his mother tightly. He promised he’d never do anything to hurt himself again.

 

As with most childhood promises, this turned out to be a very difficult one to keep.

It had been 25 years since that first pain. 25 years and the death of both of his parents. 25 years and his brother moving all the way across the country. 25 years and dates and diplomas and life. A lot of life in 25 years.

Dean had fallen out of trees, he’d burned his hand on cupcake tins, he’d gotten hit in the head with hockey pucks, he’d pricked his finger on sewing needles.

He kept the promise in the ways that mattered: he didn’t self-destruct the way he wanted when his father died. He didn’t drive recklessly or drink too much or go home with people when he knew it would just make him feel like shit in the morning.

None of this was for himself. He didn’t care how badly he hurt. He was already hurting with grief. With guilt. But he still remembered his mom telling him about his soulmate and he thought that soulmate deserved better.

Right now, though, with Dean 29 years old and in this random Starbuck’s in a train station, Dean needed caffeine. So if he drank his coffee while it was still too hot, his soulmate could deal.

He took a huge gulp, fully scalding the roof of his mouth all the way back to his tonsils.

He didn’t flinch, already regretting his actions but unwilling to show it.

Someone else, however, did flinch. And swore. Loudly.

Everyone in the coffee shop turned toward the man who was currently fanning his mouth with both hands. Dean didn’t think it was actually meant to do anything: probably just a reflex. He caught himself making similar motions when suddenly confronted with a pain he hadn’t caused. Slapping at a bee that had stung someone else or sucking on your finger that wasn’t actually pricked.

The guy confirmed this with a shake of his head, acknowledging the crowd of onlookers with an embarrassed wave. “Uh, sorry,” he started, his voice gravelly like his throat really  _ had _ been scalded to hell. “My soulmate just burned his whole mouth.”

Most onlookers chuckled and nodded, turning back to their phones or their friends or whatever had been previously occupying their attention. Some rolled their eyes and muttered to whomever they were with, either about the distinctly – confidently – male pronoun or the concept of soulmates at all.

Dean just kept staring. Awfully big coincidence…

Dean reached up and pinched the side of his neck. He watched the guy wince, involuntarily bringing his shoulder up to his ear.

Dean’s stomach ballooned in his belly, making his body feel tight and anxious but also light and… relieved?

Dean had known he was bisexual for a long time. Most people figured it out when he’d stopped using strictly female pronouns when referring to his soulmate and instead went with a ‘they’ or ‘them’. But just because he’d accepted his soulmate  _ might _ be a man didn’t mean he was ready for  _ this _ man.

He was gorgeous, for starters. Cheekbones and straight nose and strong forehead with the brightest blue eyes Dean had ever seen. And this was all when the man had clearly been on the road for longer than any human being should be comfortable with – his hair a chaos on his head, his clothes rumpled and hanging tiredly on his (firm, athletic) frame.

Dean had never firmly placed a ‘type’ for himself – positive as he was that the second he would his soulmate would come along and flip those qualifiers on their head – but if he had, it would have been exactly this man.

And maybe it was that. Maybe it was the startling beauty or the startling situation or the fact that Dean had been on a train for 9 hours at this point and was about to be on a different train for 7 more but he didn’t let himself think about what he did next. He just did it.

“Excuse me,” he called, pushing through the crowd of customers waiting for their drinks. Some of their eyes followed him but most just let themselves be jostled. 

The guy tensed. Standing up straight, he was almost as tall as Dean. Dean somehow had no doubt that this dude could lay him out if he wanted to.

Er, in a fighting way. Not a sex–

Whatever.

“Hi,” Dean said, adding a dorky little wave so as to appear more nonthreatening. “I’m Dean. Um…”

Dean was not sure at all how to say ‘I think you might be my soulmate.’

So, instead, he asked, “Does this hurt?” And bit hard on his thumb.

The guy’s hand twitched. Both he and Dean looked at it with wide eyes.

The guy brought it up to his face, staring at his own hand as if he’d never seen it before. He grabbed his index finger and pulled it back. Hard.

Dean yelped. “Dude! Fucking ouch.”

The guy didn’t say anything. He was too busy looking at Dean.

Dean knew the feeling. But they were getting a few too many stares for his liking.

He lifted up his coffee cup, sheepishly. “Sorry about the mouth burn. I needed caffeine.” He lowered the cup, coughing into his fist. The fist that had two aching digits, now. “When you get your drink, do you wanna go somewhere?”

The guy started to nod before pausing and then shaking his head sadly.

“I’d love to, trust me,” he said, his voice still that same gravel. Must not have been an effect of the coffee, then. “But my train… I have to leave for Boston in like ten minutes.”

A smile spread on Dean’s face without his permission. “You’re taking the 5am to Boston?” The guy nodded. “Me too.”

The guy’s eyes lit up, even while his smile stayed very small. Dean grinned broader to compensate.

“Are you riding with anyone?”

The guy shook his head, biting his lip. 

“Could I ride with you, then?”

The guy laughed. It came out a low rumble. Like an oncoming train.

Dean was ready for it.

“My name is Castiel,” he said, reaching out his hand.

Dean took it in his, squeezing it until he could feel the echo of pressure reflected back in his own hand.

Castiel’s drink got called so he had to pull away. Dean felt the absence of Castiel’s hand in his like a physical weight.

But Castiel came right back.

“Well, Cas. We’ve got 7 hours to get to know each other.”

Castiel nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. Dean felt it burn the tip of his tongue.

“Well, Dean,” Castiel echoed, his mouth turning up in a smile that was both shy and smug. “If this train ride goes well, we’ll hopefully have a lot longer than that.”

Dean smirked back. He liked the sound of that.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you've been waiting for me to finish Klaine Advent, I'm sorry I got pneumonia and had to drop off. I had this written weeks ago.  
> But if you've been waiting for my Klaine Advent but read this instead, thanks!
> 
>  
> 
> [Rebloggable version](http://saywhatjessie.tumblr.com/post/181377969245/feel-my-pain)


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